


Eclipse

by hereilie



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst and Tragedy, Eternal Eclipse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mythology - Freeform, Mythology References, Sad with a Happy Ending, sun and moon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29078076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereilie/pseuds/hereilie
Summary: A short piece on the tragic star-crossed lovers of the sky: the sun and moon. Inspired by that one Glimbow fanart.
Relationships: Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14
Collections: Glimbow Week 2020 countdown collection





	Eclipse

**Author's Note:**

> This was intentionally written to be vague, like most mythologies, so no one ask me what the hell is going on. It's also set in a somewhat medieval-ish setting, and there's an implied ritual at the end (but not graphic at all, I swear!) If you've stumbled upon reading this, lucky you, here's what normally goes on in my head.

For as long as the stars have lived in the endless sea of darkness in the heavens, so has the tragic tale of the lovers of the sky, who were forever bound by the distance of day and night, in the minds of all men that marvelled upon them. 

The tale of the eternal sun and his beloved bride, a love unforgiven by whatever gods the universe had deemed worthy to be their jury. Shared his light to a mortal and gave birth to the moon only to be pulled apart by punishment, destining her to an immortal life of death and revival and longing. Again and again and never-ending.

Glimmer had first heard the story as a child, told as a warning by the fireplace by her parents to a mere toddler who had yet to understand love beyond the caresses of her mother and the embrace of her father.

“When the gods found out that the sun had taken a princess as his lover and made her the queen of the night,” her mother whispered to her as Glimmer laid in bed as if telling a secret that was not meant for her young ears. 

“They were angered.”

Glimmer recalled having so many questions. Stories like these never make sense and yet they are never left unheard. 

“But why?” she had asked, voice trembling.

Her mother would look at her with tenderness, but with a glint of sadness. “Because, my child, this world that men had built can’t bear for a woman to shine a light on its darkness, lest it exposes their sins.”

The words would go over her head, naturally, for a child, without meaning.

“And so they were destined to an eternity apart, never to see each other again as long as men can gaze upon the blue skies and witness their affair.”

Glimmer remembered gripping her mother’s hands so tightly; her heart clenching for the sun that gave warmth in the day and the moon that vanished from the sky long before Glimmer was born. The orb of majestic beauty and silver light now, but a legend to young eyes that had not seen it.

And then before her young self could shed tears, her mother would smile, hopeful. “But you see, Glimmer, love is uncontainable; it seeps through the cracks and carves its own way,” she would place a kiss on Glimmer’s forehead. 

“Did they find each other again?”

Angella would nod, an almost tearful look on her face. Glimmer had never understood why the tale had always brought her mother to tears.

“If they can’t meet under blue skies,” her mother said. “Then they must simply paint the heavens red. And for a few moments, shrouded in darkness and unbearable light, they are able to hide from the gods and turn mortal eyes away.”

An eclipse is what her mother would call it. After a maiden is once again sacrificed to ward off death, only then does the moon revive like a phoenix from the ashes to meet with its lover in the sky.

And just like in her mother’s stories, in the absence of moonlight, death crept into the pitch-black night like a wayward soul preying on its next victim. 

It all began when a phoenix, rare magical creatures of flames rumoured to be born from the rays of the sun itself, flew down one morning onto Glimmer’s head and evaporated into embers that placed permanent sparkles into her hair and sun-kissed skin.

“She is not your daughter, your majesties,” she overheard one of her mother’s advisors whisper in her parents’ study one night. Glimmer, just a few months short of her 18th birthday, leaned against the stone walls. The coldness seeped into her bones as she awaited what this advisor that had always snarled at her had to say.

“She is a curse that must be dealt with before the worst comes.”

A loud clatter of metal hitting the floor followed, echoing like a scream in the tense pause. 

“Get out.” Her mother’s sharp tone said—one Glimmer knew only held regality and confidence, but at that moment, it was trembling.

“Your highness, it is almost time—”

“I will not subject my daughter to your petty fantasies and legends. They are not real, but my daughter is. She is your princess, and you will treat and talk of her as such, do you hear me?”

Her father, a sorcerer of magic, remained silent.

“King Micah, please make the Queen understand the direness of the situation,” the advisor pleaded. “As a sorcerer of Mystacor, you surely must know the curse of the moon.”

“The moon is but a child’s fairytale! It is not real!” The Queen insisted. “I am right, aren’t I, Micah? Do you have anything to say at all about this nonsense?”

Her father sighed and Glimmer waited for anticipation on the other side of the heavy wooden doors, laden by metals and secrets. She did not know what they were talking about. She was not a curse of any legend. 

Glimmer was merely the princess of her kingdom, the beloved daughter of her mother and father… who they kept imprisoned within the walls of this castle, never to step foot out and meet the townspeople.

The princess with hair that turned into an odd pink and violet shade under the glare of sunlight, unlike her parents’ dull brown ones, and had sparkling rose-pink eyes. Her mother and father would call her beautiful and yet the servants would look at her warily, not speaking a word to her if other than to share whispers about the peculiar royal in the dark corners of the great halls.

“Angie, my love,” Micah said in a low tone, sombre and foreboding. “It has happened before, decades ago… and it’s happening again. Like all prophecies do.”

“No,” the Queen whispered, disbelievingly. “Not you too. You said it wasn’t our Glimmer. It can’t be real, Micah. It can’t happen to my beloved daughter.” 

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m truly sorry. There is nothing we can do,” his father spoke, tense with emotion and voice laced with desperation. All his years of studying magic and sorcery all for naught. “Fate has already chosen.”

“But why our daughter? Why my Glimmer?” 

Silent whimpers echoed in the silence that followed her mother’s unanswerable question; the painful sound mixing with the crackling of the fireplace and the slightly glittering tune of the chimes her father had placed by their window to ward off bad luck. 

“It has always been her.”

Her. The maiden foretold, with hair and eyes that shined and glittered, resembling that of the pink hues of the sky just before sunset. Glimmer had read about her in the books at Mystacor’s library. Had heard about her from her mother’s bedtime tales.

She had adored this maiden of legend and how her beautiful strength had made even the most divine being in the sky bow down to her.

The queen of the sky, she was called. The moon reincarnated.

It couldn’t be Glimmer, and yet she fit the mold so perfectly. Soon, the young princess would believe it when death came knocking at the doors of her kingdom as if fetching her from within the battlements that served as both her prison and home.

It began when flocks of firebirds rained down from the bright morning clouds, setting fire to the town and burning the Whispering Woods that bordered her kingdom.

The massacre of the magical forest had angered the spirits living within its belly, dredging up a muck of curses that settled into the people’s homes. A sickness that crept like a thief in the night and stole lives and left corpses in its wake to be discovered at the break of dawn. A plague that burned through the skin, creating bubbles on the surface, and turned dark irises into lifeless silver. 

It claimed many. They withered like leaves during autumn, except all in a blink of an eye. Lumps on the ground grew with each death, crosses guarding the graves as blossoms grew on top until hills of beautiful flowers surrounded her kingdom.

“She’s a curse,” Glimmer heard the people say. The whispers steadily grew into shouts on the streets. The fire from the sky suddenly lit up torches and sticks around her castle. “She’ll be the end of us all!”

Glimmer retreated deeper into the cold walls of her castle. Guilt replaced the blood in her veins as it pumped steadily into her heart with every dreadful news.

“My daughter, this is not your fault,” her father would soothe her one night after finding her curled in the dark library after just having discovered the fate that lies ahead of the moon maiden. 

She’s surrounded by opened books, some with pages and covers torn—an aftermath of her fury at having a life that felt completely out of her hands.

“It is!” She cried. In a few weeks, it would be her 18th birthday. “I welcomed that phoenix into the kingdom. It bonded with me and it’s turned me into this curse! And now the kingdom is suffering for it.”

Her father, the kind King Micah, could not break it to her daughter that he had always known from the moment she was born. From the moment he saw her beautiful round eyes twinkling like the stars in the night, King Micah had known he had the moon in his arms.

“You are not a curse, Glimmer,” he said, teary-eyed, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Men are just unwilling to accept what they cannot understand, and so time and time again, we weave the tapestry of our own destruction. But it has never been your fault, my child, and you will find your peace soon enough.”

Glimmer doesn’t understand her father’s obscure words, but she forgets about it when the plague reaches their doorstep, claiming her father and mother just a few days short of her birthday.

“Find him,” her father said to her on his deathbed, trying to break through his daughter’s hysterical sobbing. “Find him, he’s in the heart of the Whispering Woods.”

And so when the people’s rebellion broke through the wicket gates, hunting her like game along the maze-like halls of her own home, Glimmer made her escape. In her flowing silk, she swam across the moat, and then breathlessly and desperately crossed the border that separated Bright Moon and the ancient magical woods.

With tears streaming down her face, she doesn’t stop even when her legs screamed of strain, even when her bare feet thundered down against sharp rocks and broken wood. The sheltered princess now at the mercy of the cruel world without her parents nor a castle to shield her.

What’s there left in the Whispering Woods? Just burned wood and ashes! Glimmer thought, but she doesn’t stop running through the decay of the once enchanting forest.

Finally, her ankles gave in and she went crashing onto the unforgiving floor. She let the defeat settle in her bones as she laid there, violently catching her breath and feeling as if death was knocking at her doorstep.

Something shifted in the darkness, a sound and then a shadow.

Glimmer weakly rose to her knees, eyes wide and manic as she scoured her surroundings. This was stupid. How could she trust the whispers of a dying man, even if it was her beloved father? 

She was going to be mauled by a beast if nothing else, but that was still probably a better option than what the townspeople had in store for her if they caught her. 

“Who’s there?!” She called out, trying to sound brave despite the fear in her bones. Clutching her tattered dress to her chest, Glimmer gathered whatever courage she had left. “Show yourself! I’m not afraid of you!”

The air rang with something that felt foreign, otherworldly, and crept into Glimmer’s skin, making her hair rise on its ends, but it did not deter her spirit.

“You took everything from me!”

Her shout of anguish echoed into the burned forest, the pain in her voice reflected on the decay that festered in the roots, broken branches and ashes.

Silence.

In the darkness, suddenly something glowed bright and warm and fiery. She stared at it with something akin to mesmerization and familiarity. The flames immediately sent a soothing calm into her troubled soul.

“It’s you…” she trailed off in a silent whisper that erupted into a sob.

The beautiful phoenix that would flutter through her window now and then ever since she was merely a toddler. 

“It’s you… you came back,” she sobbed.

The majestic bird flapped its wings and burst into a blinding light before taking the form of a man. He had kind eyes framed by concern and sympathy.

At the sight of him, Glimmer crossed her arms against herself defensively. The awe in her expression morphs to that of anger.

“Who are you?” she asked in accusation. “...You did this to me, didn’t you? You gave me your light and cursed me.”

He knelt in front of her, offering his hand so that she may decide to take it or not. And it’s the only kindness Glimmer has ever felt outside of her family that she hesitantly does. He was warm, unlike the ground on her feet, unlike the people on her tail that held torches in their hands.

“The stories are full of lies. I never gave you anything,” he said, voice like the most melodious lullaby she has ever heard—familiar, like home. “You came upon your light all on your own. The most powerful sorceress that had even put the gods to shame. It was all you. You will take your rightful place and they will worship you yet, Glimmer,” he whispered into her ear. “Now, be brave. The worst is yet to come.”

He started to move away, and she chased after him. Glimmer gripped his hand and gazed up into his dark brown eyes, the same shade as the bark of the fallen trees surrounding them and yet his held so much life. 

Her eyes did not recognize him, and yet her heart did. The painful thudding against her chest that beat in a tune familiar and yet too far out of her memory was proof of it. She frowned, reaching for him in the depths of her mind like grasping at mist. Her hands fitted perfectly into his. The hairs on her skin tingled at his presence.

“Who are you…?” She whispered, far from her previous tone. “Do I know you?”

He smiled at her tenderly and yet the curve of his eyebrows told a different story. One of longing and regret. It stirred something in her. Wisps of memories that twist into her heart almost painfully.

“Not anymore, perhaps,” he whispered. “... Or not yet.”

He placed a kiss on the space where her thick eyebrows met, and Glimmer closed her eyes. The soft touch of his lips echoed into her soul like an enveloping light, and the darkness behind her closed lids transformed into memories.

Of two young children who grew side-by-side under the watch of sorcerers centuries ago. Of a childhood lost to history and how it had blossomed into a love that would transcend time and reason itself. Of a sacrifice to the gods. Of her rebellion, breaking the bonds of her chains to walk the earth where she could marvel upon him every day, shining in the sky as the most beautiful thing across universes.

A tragic existence that repeated like sunset and sunrise at dusk and dawn. And suddenly she remembered who she is... and who he is. 

“Bow,” she gasped out, and when her eyes opened once again, he was no longer there. She stood in a panic, in search of him, but hands quickly appeared from the shadows to hold her down. The silence of the Whispering Woods broken by the yells and chatter of mortals who have lost just as much as she did under the mercy of these wretched gods. 

The people took her to the middle of town and drenched her in fire, but she felt no pain, no tears as she gazed at the bright morning skies. Only hatred coursed through her veins, reviving a power that has been nurtured all this time, waiting to be unleashed.

Come night time, her anger would revive and her blood that they shed mercilessly would paint the skies. No one dared watch as the moon reappeared on the horizon to meet with her lost lover. Only this time, to the world’s sorrow, they never separate. 

For centuries to come, songs of the eternal rose-coloured heavens that blinded those who dare look up would travel like whispers across the towns until blue skies brightened by the sun’s rays and purple evenings drenched in silver moonlight became all but a legend.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've reached the end, please leave me comments, yells, kudos, hugs or anything idk! Thank you for reading.


End file.
